


The Starks of Winterfell

by Bullheaded25



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Season 8, Starks surive, The Faceless Men, season 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-22 00:12:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14296491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullheaded25/pseuds/Bullheaded25
Summary: Varys and his little birds in Westeros know more people than anyone could ever imagine. Varys serves the people of Westeros, not any Lord or Lady or King or Queen. And the Starks are good for the people of Westeros.Alternative Universe in which Varys reaches out to little birds in the Free Cities. The Faceless men use their skills and magic to save the Stark family, but once the Starks are able to finally break away from them and return to Winterfell, they do. I plan to recreate season 7 with the Starks alive and possibly go into season 8.





	1. Sansa I

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try my best to keep this updated regularly but with my schedule there is no promises. I will probably write a few chapters before I update again so that I am good for a little while but I wanted to see what kind of response I got for this chapter.

**Sansa I**

 

Sansa listened carefully through her tent wall and waited until men’s murmurs were gone. Quickly, she dressed in a wool-lined dress and in furs that she made herself when she made Jon’s. When Sansa was prepared for her travels, and took a deep breath and and exited her tent. Lady Brienne was standing at the entrance and gave her a small smile. 

 

“My Lady,” she began. Sansa shushed her. 

 

“Not now, Brienne,” Sansa said quietly. “We must leave soon if we want to meet Little Finger where I promised.”

 

Lady Brienne remained silent while the two walked through the camp. Jon and the other men will leave early before sunrise to battle Ramsay for Winterfell. The two women had a long journey to meet Little Finger and the men of the Vale just on the opposite side of Winterfell. It would be dangerous, as Lady Brienne continuously swore, but it was necessary. Litter Finger had promised her a gift, a gift that he promised she wouldn’t be able to repay. It sent a shiver through Sansa’s body to think about, but what Sansa cared about was not his gift but was his army. Jon and the Northerns needed more men if they were to win the battle and to retake Winterfell. 

 

“Don’t you think that Jon will look for you in the morning?” Lady Brienne questioned as soon as they were on their horses and out of the camp.

 

“Yes,” Sansa said shortly. “But he will be thankful when the men of the Vale arrive and help him retake Winterfell.”

 

Lady Brienne did not speak for the remainment of the ride South. Sansa did not want to talk. Sansa only wanted to meet with Little Finger and lead him to Winterfell so that the fewest amount of men will die and so that she can get her home back as soon as possible. Sansa knew that she was risking more than even Lady Brienne thought she was by taking help with Little Finger. But her life was something that Sansa was willing to give so that Jon would live and so that the Starks would regain control of the North. 

 

The two rode hard through the night and through the early morning until they saw the army. In a shallow valley waited the men that Jon and Sansa so badly needed. All she needed to do was show her face to their Lord and they would fight for her. Little Finger sickened Sansa to her core but it was so easy for her to get what she needed and wanted from him so she swallowed the bile that had risen up in her throat and continued forward. 

 

But when Sansa neared them, and Little Finger saw them approach, she suddenly couldn’t breathe any longer. Her grip on the reins loosened and her horse slowed. Lady Brienne pulled her horse to a slower pace beside Sansa. 

 

“My Lady?”

 

“My - my -”

 

Lady Brienne looked toward Little Finger now, and Sansa saw her face slacken with shock. Beside Little Finger was the gift that he had promised Sansa. Beside Little Finger was Lord Eddard Stark and his Lady wife, Catelyn, along with their oldest child, Robb. Tears were running down either cheek as she pushed forward and approached them. 

 

Sansa’s Lady mother was openly crying, and even Lord Eddard and Robb were glossy eyed at the sight of them. Sansa slowed her breathing as she stared at them, her eyes devouring them. 

 

“I - I -” Sansa could hardly form single words let alone sentences. “I don’t understand.”

 

“It is a long story, my sweet child,” he father said to her and a sob racked through Sansa body at how sweet his voice was. She never thought that she would hear his voice again; out of all the voices Sansa had heard throughout her lifetime, her father’s remained her favorite. 

 

Ned approached her on his horse and reached out to dry her cheeks. Sansa managed to shake her head, her mission becoming forefront in her mind again. 

 

“Jon,” she croaked, looking in between her dead family members. Sansa couldn’t feel any part of her body but she knew she would have to ride hard to reach Winterfell with the army. “Jon needs us. He needs us now.”

 

Ned nodded and looked back to his wife and son. “Come now, we need to get these men to Winterfell.”

 

Little Finger smiled his sickly smile and Sansa could read his expression clearly - in his mind, he was winning her hand. And Sansa knew that if he proposed and said marrying him would keep her dead parents and brother in her life, she would accept his offer and do whatever he wanted. 

 

The army’s general blew his horn and the army began to stir their horses, and soon the hoard of men were leaving the valley and heading North. Sansa looked at her family members once more and then turned her horse and together, the Lords and Ladies began to urge their horses after the soldiers. Sansa tried to look forward and not back at her family, but she found herself continuously looking at them. She was terrified that she would look for them and that they wouldn’t be there. 

 

“I haven’t ridden a horse for years,” Robb yelled. He leveled with her. “I bet you the bigger chamber that I can still ride faster than you!”

 

Sansa let out a wet laugh that was mixed with a sob. It was as if Robb still understood her just with a single glance. Her parents and older brother urged their horses to remain beside Sansa or in front of her so that she could keep her eyes on them and Sansa felt more tears spill from her eyes.

 

Sansa had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize how long they had been riding until she heard the army’s horn blow. Sansa recognized the landmarks that her family, Little Finger and Lady Brienne were approaching and knew that they were close to Winterfell. In the distance, she could hear the loud noise that was war cries - giants yelling and men screaming. They came to a stop at the top of the hill outside of Winterfell’s walls and once again in this day, the air left Sansa’s body. 

 

Robb came to a stop next to her. “Seven hells,” he said, staring at the scene in front of him with shock and horror. 

 

In the middle of the field, there was a growing pile of bodys and horses with Bolton men surrounding it, closing in on the remaining survivors. The men of the Vale grabbed all the fighter’s attention and Sansa’s eyes sought out Ramsay. She knew it was him from the simple fact that he remained alone, away from the fighting. Anger bubbled up in the pit of her belly but it lasted only a moment. Sansa’s eyes found her half-brother, Jon. He was climbing and rolling down the pile of bodies and then stared at Ramsay.

 

“No,” she said. “No, no, no.”

 

“What?” Catelyn asked, searching her daughter’s face instead of the field. Ned and Robb both looked at her as well. 

 

“Jon,” Sansa said. “He’s -” Jon began running toward Winterfell with a giant and another large man that Sansa assumed to be Tormund. She heard herself gasp. “Jon is going after Ramsay.”

 

Sansa took off at once and willed herself to ignore her family’s calls. If Ramsey killed Jon, he would never learn that somehow - unbelievably - their family had survived. He could learn about his mother now from their father, he could receive counsel from Lord Stark and Robb, he could find his happiness at Winterfell with his family. She steered her horse toward the West side of Winterfell to enter the Hunter’s Gate. There was such a mess of bodies and blood and death throughout the field that she had to loop around wide in order to get closer to the great granite walls. The Hunters Gate was left opened and unguarded and as soon as she was within the walls of Winterfell Sansa was off of her horse. 

 

Sansa heard people dismount their horses after her and she knew that her family had followed her but still, she willed herself to carry on without looking back. With a quick haste, Sansa walked through Winterfell without looking around her at all.

 

“Sansa!”

 

Sansa didn’t respond to her father. She knew that he was afraid of what would be within the courtyard walls, but Sansa was not. Sansa knew that Jon would beat Ramsey. There was no way that a pathetic monster like Ramsey could win over a good man. Jon was good. Jon was the best man Sansa knew and  _ he cannot be dead _ .

 

Sansa stopped when she passed the walls and looked around for a brief moment. Archers stood around the yard with their bows down, Tormund stood close by and a giant lay dead near the gate. Her father was closest to her, her mother and brother on the opposite side of her and together, they watched Jon. 

 

Jon was on top of Ramsey, repeatedly hitting the face of the monster who had destroyed Sansa. He seemed to have lost complete control of his body as each punch splattered blood on the ground and on Jon’s face. Sansa couldn’t see Ramsey’s face any longer, only a deep, warm red. 

 

Somehow, Jon saw Sansa and froze with his fist in the air behind him. He stared at her, and in his eyes Sansa saw how broken he was too. Then Jon seemed to realize that around Sansa stood their father and their brother, and Lady Catelyn. His body involuntarily jolted backwards as the air left his body and his mouth fell open. He looked in between all of them and began to visibly shake as he pushed himself up and on to his feet. Now all the men were looking at the Starks. Some seemed to be in shock while Tormund and other Wildlings didn’t seem to know who the new arrivals were. 

 

Ned stepped forward. Now that he was on his own feet, Sansa saw that he still had the problem knee from King's Landing. “Jon,” Ned said in a soft and caring voice. At the sound of it a sob racked through Sansa’s body once more. Catelyn grabbed her hand and then wrapped her arms around her daughter. Sansa’s knees nearly buckled. 

Her father grabbed Jon by his shoulders and pulled him closer to him. Then he put his hands on either side of his face and Sansa saw tears begin to fall from Jon’s eyes and then they were embracing. Ned did not care that his son was covered in mud and blood he only cared for his child as father’s should. 

 

\---

 

Bodies were being moved out of the courtyard within the hour, true Bolton men were executed by Northern Lords, and Jon had ordered for all the dead to be together, because they must be burned. Robb had nearly argued about burning the bodies, but Jon silenced him at once. The years had changed Jon a surprising amount, but the newly returned family knew to listen to him. The men who brought in Rickon’s body seemed to dread their every step. Jon seemed to know who was on the board they were carrying and he turned in front of his father and his wife. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I - Ramsey had - had Rickon.”

 

Lady Catelyn let out a wail and ran to her baby boy. Ned was not far behind her and he held on to his wife and tried to turn her away from the body of the boy they did not know. Robb stood by Jon, not wanting to go near his brother. Jon tried to grab her arm as she walked past the two and toward her parents and dead sibling. She had not seen Rickon since he was three. 

 

Rickon looked like Bran had before Sansa left Winterfell those years ago. His eyes were closed but she knew he would have the Tully eyes, eyes like her’s. His hair was dark red and long and wild. He wore mixed furs that resembled the ones that wildings wore and his body was long and splattered with blood, a broken arrow in his middle. 

 

“Bury him,” came Jon’s voice from behind her. “In the crypts. Next to whoever the fuck is buried in my father’s place.”

 

The statement brought truth to Sansa’s mind. “Yes,” she said suddenly, looking at her parents and her older brother. “Yes I think it is time for us to know how this is possible.”

 

Her father, still holding his wife, nodded in agreement. “Aye, it is. Where is a good place for us to talk?”

 

Most of the castle was currently occupied or at least consistently disturbed by others. The dining hall was currently being used as an infirmary, men were walking in and out of Winterfell to move bodies and to help others in, shields and weapons were being cleaned and stored, and Ramsey had been moved to the kennels upon Jon’s request. 

As if the Northern Lords somehow knew that the Jon and Sansa were about to learn of how their family had miraculously survived their deaths, they were suddenly around the Starks.

 

“How is it that you three are alive?” asked Lord Cerwyn. 

 

“It is a long story,” Ned said. “And it is a story that my children deserve to hear first and on their own.”

 

Lord Cerwyn opened his mouth and Lord Stark held up his hand to silence him. “There is a lot of work here that needs to be done before nightfall.”

 

“I will speak with the Northern houses tomorrow in the dining hall,” Jon said from behind his father. Sansa saw an odd expression take over his face as their father turned around to look at him. “I know the North deserves an explanation but I think Lady Sansa and I deserve the explanation a little more.”

 

Lord Cerwyn and Lord Glover both nodded and without further question they turned and began to walk toward the other Lords and Lady Mormont. Robb was smiling 

 

“So where are we going, Lord Snow?”

 

Jon glared at his brother and Sansa let out a small laugh. If her family were to be able to return to a somewhat normal routine her heart would probably burst. Jon looked over at Sansa, smirked, and said, “Yes, Lady Stark, where is a good place for us to talk.”


	2. Ned I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say now that I've read the books and will likely incorporate some things from them but I plan to mostly follow the show just because I will hopefully go through season 7 (with some minor changes in addition to the Starks being alive) and into some of my own season 8.

**Ned I**

 

Petyr had told Ned and his family that Sansa had married Roose Bolton’s legitimized bastard son, Ramsey, but that she was now at the wall. When they demanded answers from him as to why she left Winterfell and her husband and fled to the Wall, Petyr swore he did not know. He just continued to tell the Starks how he had helped Sansa flee King’s Landing and return North. 

 

Ned was tempted to strangle him again, except this time finish the deed by snapping his neck as well but he knew that he couldn’t. Petyr had seemed honest when he told the Starks of how Sansa needed the men of the Vale,  _ “She needs me and my army.” _ It made Ned feel sick to his stomach. No matter what Petyr tried, he would not let the man do anything to his daughter. 

 

Sansa was hesitant to lead them anywhere to speak, and Ned was sure to make a mental note of it. Eventually, Sansa led the family to a glass garden that was full of crops. There were stools outside of the glass house and each of them grabbed on so that they could sit within the garden. It was warm  inside and a relief from the grounds of Winterfell. Ned thought it odd that out of all the rooms available within the castle, Sansa picked a garden. He remembered that she had liked to spend time in them as a child, and hoped that it was a place for her to come and think like the Godswood had been for him. 

 

Ned, Catelyn, Robb and Ned all sat in a clearing at the end of the garden and watched as Sansa picked at a couple of plants. She seemed to be nervous, but managed to help the plants within a matter of minutes before settling down between her mother and Jon. Ned watched Jon and Sansa for a long moment - the two as children had never had a relationship and had hardly spoken to one another but now they seemed to be close, friends, and they seemed to somewhat depend on the other. 

 

Ned realized that his daughter was staring at him, her eyes wet once more. 

 

“I would like to know who the man was,” she said to him. “The man that I watched lose his head who I believed was you.”

 

“I do not know,” Ned answered at once. “I never met him. And your mother and Robb never met the people who died as them either.”

 

“I just don’t understand,” Jon said. “I don’t understand how any of this is possible or where any of you have been or… anything. I don’t understand any of this.”

 

This was Ned’s duty to tell, he knew. He knew more of what happened than his wife or his oldest son. Varys, a snake in King’s Landing, had kept in touch with him while he was a prisoner of King Joffrey’s. He had urged Ned to say he was a traitor so that he could take the Black and live, and so that his daughters could remain safe. When Ned had refused and when he had promised that his children will never be safe in King’s Landing, Varys had taken matters into his own hands. 

 

The final night that Lord Eddard Stark spent in his cell was when Varys had taken action. With a bag over his head, Ned was moved through the city and then on to a boat. He was seen to by a Maester and was fed, but he was locked in a bunk room beneath the deck of the boat and to this day he does not know how long he spent in that dark room. When the ship docked, all that Ned could hear was foreign voices speaking in foreign tongues. It wasn’t until the end of the day that someone came and unlocked his door. It had been a dark man, Ned described, that could not speak Westerosi and that simply led him by his arm off of the ship and into a small stone house.

 

Within the fortnight, Ned had been moved across the Free cities and to a larger stone building that was in the middle of a city. He was alone for a good time, and would walk through the square and the market in front of his room every day until one day, a man came to him in the morn and explained to the Westerosi Lord what had become of his life. 

 

“There is a religion in the Free Cities,” Ned said. “They have a temple in Braavos and are called the Faceless Men. Their god is the Many-Faced God. I’ve learned a great deal about them with the time that I spent there and it is them who made it possible for any of us to be here.”

 

Jon and Sansa shared a look. 

 

“I thought the Faceless Men were assassins.”

 

“They are,” Ned told Jon. “They take a life when one is owed. Lord Varys found men and women who agreed to create a Face. I had never heard of the Faceless Men doing something like this, but what they did was create my face, and Lady Catelyn’s face, and Robb’s face. The temple in Braavos has many faces: all of different colors and origins and all with different hair, eyes, noses and lips.”

 

“Lord Varys’ little birds are so loyal that they got themselves killed to save you three,” Sansa muttered, more to herself than to anyone. “I spent years near Lord Varys and he never said anything to me.”

 

“I don’t believe he said anything to anyone, dear,” Catelyn said, grabbing her daughter’s hand. “He was doing a very dangerous job and the least amount who knew, the better.”

 

“He watched me mourn each of you,” Sansa said. “He watched everything that happened to me because your death and didn’t ever do anything with me.”

 

“There was nothing he could do from stopping your marriage to Lord Tyrion -”

 

Ned filled with dread as he watched his daughter wretch her hand away from her Lady mother. Sansa looked incredulously toward Catelyn and a horrible, disgusted laugh escaped Sansa. “You think,” she demanded. Sansa shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “You think  _ marrying Lord Tyrion _ is the worst that I have been through?”

 

“Sansa.”

 

Ned pulled his eyes away from the girl at the sound of Jon’s voice. It was so broken yet caring, and he was looking at Sansa as if pleading for her to calm down. Sansa turned toward Jon with tears spilling out of her eyes as she searched his.

 

“Sansa,” Jon said again in the same voice. “Sansa it’s not fair to -”

 

A desperate sound escaped Sansa again and a sob wracked through her body. “It’s not fair?” she cried out. Robb looked at Ned and he looked sick. “Yes, I agree with that, Jon. It isn’t fair.” 

 

Sansa turned back to her newly returned family and looked between the three of them. Ned wanted to reach out and take Sansa into his arms and hold her but he knew that his once quiet daughter did not want that. She wanted to be heard, and so Ned wanted to listen to her. 

 

“You can say that your lives have been difficult and sad while in hiding for all these years and I will believe you. But you don’t have any idea of who I am. You don’t have any idea of who Jon is. You didn’t know little Rickon, and where ever Bran and Arya are, you don’t know them. I don’t know any of them either - I only know Jon.”

 

The words stung as Sansa surely knew that they would, but they sting because they are true. Sansa was still a girl when Ned was taken from King’s Landing, Arya was an even smaller girl that was learning to use her small sword, and Bran had been sleeping from his fall when the three Starks began to head South. He knew nothing of his children except for what he could remember from years ago. 

 

“I was left in King’s Landing,” Sansa said. Ned looked down at his boots for a brief moment and breathed in deeply. He needed to hear of what happened to his children but he did not want to. He knew it would be terrible, and he knew that whether or not he had truly died, it would have happened either way. Ned was sad that his daughter was sharing her story out of anger, and not out of trust or comfortability. 

 

“I watched a man who I thought was my father lose his head in front of me and then I was kept as a play thing for King Joffrey to torment and beat and humiliate. I was constantly being reminded of my family’s troubles and deaths and was beaten and nearly raped during a riot in King’s Landing simply because of how passionately the people hated Joffrey - so much so that they couldn’t see that I hated him even more than them. And when Margaery arrived in King’s Landing with the other Tyrells I was finally freed from my betrothal to him. I was made to assume that I would marry Loras when reality Lord Tywin married me to Lord Tyrion.”

 

Catelyn flinched at the words coming from her daughters mouth and Ned looked to see that Robb seemed to look as sick as Ned felt. Jon’s eyes were casted down to the floor of the glass garden as he listened to Sansa speak.

 

“Lord Tyrion was kind to me, he helped me in a lot of ways and taught me a great deal of lessons and he never touched me,” Sansa looked at her mother. “Tyrion was good to me while I was in King's Landing.”

 

“How did you leave King's Landing?” Robb asked his sister. Sansa looked at her brother and looked slightly pained to see the pain that hearing this was causing him. 

 

“During Joffrey and Margaery’s wedding, Joffrey was poisoned. During the commotion, a man named Dontos led me out of King’s Landing by row boat and to a ship that belong to Lord Baelish.” 

 

Ned felt impossibly more sick to his stomach and he looked to Jon, who had to know Sansa’s story. Jon looked at him but only showed a scowl. 

 

“Lord Baelish disguised me as his bastard named Alayne Stone and took me to the Eyrie. He wed and bedded Aunt Lysa who later accused me of loving Lord Baelish and tried to push me through the moon door -” Catelyn gasped and looked furious. She sought out Sansa’s hand and her daughter allowed it this time. Sansa didn’t seem to be angry with her family now, but seemed angry by the events that have happened within her life. “But Lord Baelish pushed her through the moon door.”

 

“That’s how he Lords the Vale,” Ned said. “What has he done to you, Sansa? It would be easy to have him executed for his betrayal to me. I’m sure we could gather a list.”

 

“Why were you with him?” Jon asked now that Little Finger was in subject.

 

“He is the way that we could return to Westeros and return North so quickly,” said Robb. “I agree with executing him.”

 

“He sold me to the Bolton’s,” Sansa said quietly. “He took me from one family who tortured me and killed my family and then sold me to another family who tortured me and killed my family. They wanted me, I’ve been called the Key to the North for years now. Ramsey raped me and beat me every night of our marriage until Theon helped me escape Winterfell and Lady Brienne took me to the wall.”

 

“We’ll kill Ramsey too -” Robb began, his jaw locked and voice low. 

 

“No,” Jon said. And before he could receive any looks or words from his family, he said, “Sansa will kill Ramsey. I promised her that it would be her.”

 

Ned, Catelyn and Robb looked from Jon to Sansa. Their expressions looked dangerous, and there were tears running down Catelyn’s face, but they nodded.  _ Yes,  _ Ned thought to himself. _ Sansa will get to end the monster’s life, and I will get to end the traitorous Little Finger.  _

 

There was a brief time of silence between them now that Sansa seemed to be done speaking. She looked more exhausted than earlier, completely drained from retelling the story of her life. Ned watched her intently as she stood near the glass wall of the garden. The sky was darkening now and there seemed to be less movement within the walls of Winterfell. Sansa had grown into a beautiful woman. She had been a beautiful girl who resembled her beautiful mother, but Ned studied each detail of his daughter’s face and hair and body posture and come to the conclusion that Sansa may be more beautiful than her Lady mother. 

 

Ned stood and walked over to his child. She looked at him and blinked heavily to clear her thoughts. All it did was make her seem more tired and it made her blue eyes darken more. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and held on to her as he had wished to earlier. 

 

“I love you, my sweet one,” he told her quietly. “I love you more than I know how to explain. And we will rebuild our home and our family together.”

 

Ned felt Sansa nod into his shoulder. “I love you, too, Father.”

 

She pulled away from his embrace and studied his face with as much intensity as he had previously studied her. She touched his cheek with her hand and felt his warm skin, dark in comparison to her pale skin.

 

“The sun aged you well, Father.”

 

Ned smiled at her and grabbed her hand, kissing it softly. “You’ve grown more beautiful than I could imagine.”

 

Sansa smiled for a moment and then looked over at Jon, who was looking at the two of them. Ned followed her gaze and Jon smiled at the them.

 

“Let’s hear what has happened at the Wall,” Ned said. 

 

He led Sansa to their stools and took his seat next to Jon. He watched the man carefully for a long moment. He would tell Jon of his true parentage tonight, and they would decide how to approach the Northern Lords together. Jon remained more Stark than any of the sons Ned had had with Catelyn. Jon was no longer a boy, he was a man grown tall, muscular and lean. He had scars around his eyes and along his jaw and Ned was sure that there were many more that were hidden beneath his smeared-cleaned leathers and wool tunic. 

 

“A lot,” Jon said under his breath, looking at Ned in the eyes. Ned reached toward him and grabbed his forearm firmly.

 

“We did not receive much news while in the Free Cities,” Ned told him. “Just major deaths such as the Baratheon’s and the Lannister bastards. We need to know what is going on in the North.”

 

Jon began his story with the dead man he had killed at Castle Black in Lord Mormont’s chambers. “That is why we must burn everybody,” he told his brother. “If we do not burn the bodies, the Night King will turn them into soldiers for their army of the dead.”

 

“Those were stories Nan told us,” Robb croaked. He looked to his father for support but Ned just stared at Jon. 

 

“I thought the same,” Jon told Robb. “I’ve seen them. I’ve fought them. I’ve killed some. They are real and they are coming South.”

 

“Winter is coming,” Ned said, sounding distant. 

 

Jon continued with his story of his life at the Wall. Judging Sansa’s expressions it seemed that Jon was going more in depth than before. He told them about his friends Samwell Tarly, and men named Grenn, Pyp, and Edd. Lord Mormont had refused to let him become a ranger like Uncle Benjen, and had made him a stewart so that he could train him for leadership. Jon told them about Craster’s Keep, about the Brothers’ betrayal and Lord Mormont’s murder. When Jon began to speak about the Wildlings, he looked hesitant toward Lady Catelyn. 

 

“Go on, son,” Ned urged him. 

 

Jon told him about taking a wildling girl that he held prisoner with the Brothers of the Night Watch, he was supposed to kill her but he couldn’t - she was a girl, and she had not done anything to him. Jon had proven himself to the Wildings by killing Halfhand, but it was the girl - Ygritte - vouching for him that got the Wildlings to accept him.

 

“Ygritte,” Robb repeated. He sat back and studied Jon. “What happened to her?”

 

Ned saw Sansa look to Jon with interest. Jon swallowed hard. 

 

“I climbed the Wall with the Wildlings but then left them to return to Castle Black. She shot me with three arrows.”

 

Ned laughed because Jon was smiling. 

 

“You climbed the Wall?”  Robb hooted. “And got shot by your woman three times?”

 

Jon continued to smile, although it faded slightly. “Climbing the Wall was a thrilling experience that I hope I never have to do again,” he answered. “And aye, she did. She told me before that she knew I was loyal, she knew that I was still a Crow but that I had loyalties to her. She was angry that I went to Castle Black instead of raiding villages with them.”

 

Jon continued with his story of returning to Castle Black and the troubles that he faced now that his brothers did not trust him. Jon and a small company of men went to Craster’s Keep to revenge Lord Mormont. Not long after they returned, Castle Black became the home of a battle between brothers and Wildlings. The Night’s Watch loses a lot of men, and Ygritte is killed. The following morning, Jon went North of the Wall to speak peace with Mance but while at the camp, Stannis Baratheon and his men charged the camp and murdered a great number of Wildlings. Jon worked with Stannis at Castle Black and travelled to Hardhome to urge the Free Folk to travel South for their own safety and -  _ another battle _ . 

But it was what came next that struck Ned to the core. Jon told them of how an orphan boy at the Wall summoned him, claiming that they had new information of Uncle Benjen. But instead of new of Ned’s brother, Benjen, Jon was murdered. Six of his own men stabbed him, including the young orphan, and left him in the snow bleeding out to his death.

 

“Jon -” Without realizing it, Ned was speaking. “Jon, m’boy, I am -”

 

“I did what I thought was right,” Jon told his father. “I did what I thought was right and I got murdered for it. By my own brothers.”

 

“You did the right thing,” said Robb and it made Jon pull his eyes away from Ned and looked at his brother. Robb had tears spilling from the corner of his eyes.

 

“Fuck those men,” Robb continued, nostrils flaring. “You did the right thing. And the Wildlings still follow you, still fight with you. Wildlings helped you take Winterfell. What Lord or King has ever done that before? You have aligned with people who have never been aligned with and it is all for the good of the North.”

 

Jon gave his brother a wet smile. “For the good of the realm. If we don’t stop the Night King he will kill every last person in Westeros.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this chapter! Thank you for reading!


	3. Robb

**Robb I**

 

Men that followed Robb planned to kill him at the Twins. Those men have since died believing that they did kill their King. It made Robb furious to know that his brother Jon had been murdered by his own men. Robb understood that Jon aligned with the Wildlings and that that is why the Brothers of the Night Watch murdered him. But from hearing Jon’s tale once, Robb also understood the danger the people of Westeros were in if the Night King and the army of the dead were not stopped.

 

“Father…”

 

Robb looked to Jon, who was searching their father’s face with an odd type of desperation. Jon looked at Lady Catelyn. Robb instantly knew what Jon was about to ask of their father. It was something that Robb had forgotten - that Jon was not a trueborn son to Ned and to Catelyn. He was not even a trueborn son to Ned. It was a truth that Robb had learned years ago, had accepted years ago, and had chosen to forget years ago.

 

Robb’s mother sighed and picked at a frayed spot on her worn dress. She seemed to know where this conversation was going as well.

 

“Father.. I’m sorry,” Jon said. “But you told me that the next time you saw me, you would tell me about my mother. I’ve accepted the fact that I would possibly die not ever learning about her. But now you’re back.”

 

Ned nodded and grabbed Jon’s wrist to give it a firm and comforting squeeze. He stood, grabbed his walking stick, and walked to the glass wall to look out over the narrow yard and toward the interior granite wall. 

 

“I wish I could have told you sooner,” said Ned. “But it is something you need to know, and something the North will need to know.”

 

“The North?” Jon questioned, standing now as well. “Why does the North deserve to know who my mother is?”

 

“Because I am not your father, Jon.”

 

Robb heard a ragged in the room but was not sure if it was from Jon or Sansa - perhaps it was both. Jon’s knees seemed to give out beneath him and he dropped back down onto his stool. 

 

Robb stared at Jon and eventually Jon looked at him. His mouth was agape and it seemed that he couldn’t form words. 

 

“You are always my first brother, Jon,” Robb swore. “There is nothing that can happen in this world that will change you being my brother.”

 

Jon looked to Sansa, who was staring at him in a slight state of shock. 

 

“If.. If you’re not his father,” she said, looking up to Ned. “Then who is? Who is his mother? Why have you told us all that he is your son?”

 

“I brought him to Winterfell as my bastard son to protect him,” Ned answered easily, though his voice seemed grave. “His name is Jonaerys Targaryen. He is the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and my sister, Lyanna Stark.”

 

Robb stood and crossed the garden to stand beside Jon. Robb grabbed his shoulder and held it firmly. Jon had lost all color in his face and looked blankly out in front of him. 

 

“I found Lyanna in the Tower of Joy, bleeding to death on the birthing bed. Rhaegar had just fallen at the Trident. She told me your name, and told me that I had to protect you from Robert. I promised Lyanna that I would protect you,” Ned walked until he stood in front of Jon. He grabbed the man’s chin and made Jon face him. “I promised your mother that I would protect you from harm. And King Robert would have murdered you if he knew that you existed.”

 

Jon still did not speak, only stared at the man he had thought was his father. When Jon finally did speak, he did not say something Robb had expected from him. 

 

“You gave up your honor for a baby?” he croaked. 

 

“I gave up my honor for my nephew,” Ned was stern now. “I gave up my honor for my little sister. You would do the same. As I said before; you may not have my name but you have my blood. You are a Stark. You are a Stark and you are a Targaryen.”

 

“The story is that Rhaegar -”

 

“Kidnapped and raped Lyanna,” Jon finished. His voice was vile and he suddenly stood and walked away from his family. 

 

“Lyanna would not have said your name was Targaryen if you were a bastard. Lyanna would have told me that your name was Jonaerys Sand, or possibly a different name entirely. I do not know for true, but I do believe that you are a legitimate son.”

 

“Rhaegar was married.”

 

Ned looked at Jon and then down at his hands a top of his walking stick. “I can not tell you definite information, Jon. We may request information from the Citadel if you wish. Marriages can be annulled. I was not told a name of a bastard, I was told a name of a prince.”

 

“The Northern Lords won’t follow a Targaryen.”

 

Robb looked at Sansa with surprise. She was standing now too, only their lady mother remained seated and her eyes were on her daughter. 

 

“They were being a pain for following a bastard in the first place. If we tell them of his true parentage like you said, father, he still needs to be a bastard.”

 

Ned nodded to agree with his daughter. Robb looked over his sister once more - aye, she was a woman grown, but she was also a politician.

 

“They don’t need to follow me,” Jon said, looking at Sansa like she was daft. “Lord Eddard Stark and King Robb Stark are here now. They can follow true Starks -”

 

“You are a Stark!” Jon looked up from the floor and met Sansa’s eyes. All eyes were on her. “Your true father may not be a Stark, but you are.”

 

“I am not Lord of Winterfell,” Ned told Jon, looking toward him now.

 

“And I am no longer King in the North,” Robb told him. “Our time has come and our time has past. We have both failed. The North is yours.”

 

Jon looked between the two of them with wide eyes once more. 

 

“You are -”

 

“I lost the North,” Ned said gently. “I will be an advisor and perhaps Master of Arms? We will need to train all Northerns for the war to come.”

 

“I failed the North,” Robb said bitterly. “I failed the North for my own selfish reasons. You are King in the North now, brother. I may be whatever you would like. Perhaps your battle strategist? I never lost a battle, I only broke promises.”

 

“Battle strategist, advisor or perhaps a bannerman,” Jon said. He gave Robb  small smile. “And Master of Arms and an advisor,” he said to Ned. 

 

“So, your Grace, we should see how what is left to do before nightfall.”

 

Robb was sure that Jon wanted to hit him for calling him Grace, but instead the two grinned at each other. 

 

When the family exited the glass gardens and headed toward the North Gate yard. Waiting near the wall stood an older man dirtied and bloodied and wearing furs. When he saw the family approach him, he walked with haste toward them. Robb looked to Jon but Jon was smiling at the man approaching and soon the two embraced. 

 

“Ser Davos,” Jon said as they broke a part. 

 

“I know you,” Lady Catelyn said. 

 

“Aye, My Lady,” Ser Davos said with a curt nod. “I know someone who was once you.”

 

“My family have all survived, Ser Davos. Miraculously, but true.” Ser Davos looked at Lady Sansa and then back at the newly arrived Starks and seemed to allow the explanation for now.

 

“You served Stannis Baratheon.”

 

“I did,” Ser Davos said. “But I serve Jon Snow now, in whatever endeavors he may live.”

 

“Ser Davos is an advisor of mine,” Jon said. “He sat with my body while I was dead at Castle Black. He is the one who asked for me to be revived. He’s a good man.”

 

Ned, Catelyn and Robb all nodded. Robb extended his hand to Ser Davos and was surprised when the hand that grabbed his was missing fingers. Ser Davos chuckled. 

 

“Stannis Baratheon took them from me years ago when he fould me smuggling,” Ser Davos told him. “I’m a smuggler from Flea Bottom who has somehow come to the company of King's.”

 

Ser Davos turned to Jon. “You are the King, aren’t you?”

 

“I haven’t even talked to the North men, they may not want me,” answered Jon.

 

“I meant; your lord father and king brother aren’t reclaiming their positions come morn?”

 

“No, we’re not,” Ned told the man. “Jon took Winterfell back for the North. It is his.”

 

Ser Davos nodded and patted Jon’s shoulder. “We’ll need you tomorrow when we talk to the Northern Lords,” he said to Ned and Robb. Ser Davos squeezed Sansa’s arm and gave her a sincere smile before leaving them. 

 

When they entered the courtyard they realized that most of the work had been completed. Bodies were gone and people were leaving the makeshift infirmary with ointments and medicines and seemingly going to bed. Lord Glover approached them. 

 

“I have assigned men and women sleeping quarters for the night, but have made it clear that they will change once we begin preparations for the war.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Glover.”

 

Lord Glover nodded and his eyes moved to Ned. He didn’t seem pleased or angry to see them. “It is good to see you, My Lord,” he said to Ned. “You were a great man before. I hope you continue to be.” 

 

Before Ned could say anything, a large wild looking man began yelling for Jon. 

 

“King Crow!” he called. “Why are you looking at me like that? King Crow -” Tormund pushed through men and then walked toward the Starks with a large grin on his face. Lord Glover left before the wildling could reach them. When Tormund was close, he embraced Jon.

 

“That one on one combat was good to watch, Crow,” he said. He looked at Robb and Robb grinned at him. This must be a Wilding, this must be Tormund. “And who are these people?”

 

Jon shook his head at his friend but turned around so that he could introduce them. He gestured to Ned but them hesitated. “This is… this is Lord Eddard Stark and his Lady wife Catelyn, and my brother Robb. This is Tormund, the Wildlings follow him.”

 

“I thought all you were supposed to be dead?” Tormund said, looking back at Jon with a confused expression. “That’s part of your story, Crow. Your family is dead.”

 

Jon looked at his family. “I guess they aren’t.”

 

Tormund looked at the Starked with his confused expression and squinted at them. “Well, it’s nice they showed up,” he told Jon and then began to laugh. Tormund extended his arm and when both Ned and Robb grabbed it with their own, he shook them roughly. He extended his arm to Lady Catelyn who seemed surprised. At once Tormund said, “I won’t be rough with you,” he said grinning. “Gentle.”

 

Catelyn pursed her lips but shook his large hand. Tormund looked at Jon and while Robb could not see the Wildlings face, he saw Jon give him a warning look. It made Robb snort. 

 

“I’m going to start the fire. It’s going to be fucking huge,” he told Jon. “What do you plan to do with that sick fuck Bolton?”

 

Lady Catelyn nearly jumped at how Tormund spoke to her daughter. Sansa managed a small smile. “I’m not quite sure yet,” she told him.

 

Tormund nodded and then stood close to her so that he could speak into her ear. “Make it count. He deserves to suffer.”

 

Tormund smiled at Sansa and then walked around her. “Aye! Roy! Bring me that torch boy!”

 

“He doesn’t know or care for Westeros formalities,” Jon said at once looking slightly apologetic.

 

“I see that,” Catelyn said, looking ruffled. 

 

“It’s not going to change,” Jon continued. “He will say whatever is on his mind. And he will definitely tell you the story about him fucking a bear.”

 

“He fucked a bear?” Robb laughed and looked after the large man. “I might go and ask him for that story now!”

 

“He has a lot of good stories,” Sansa told her brother with a  smile playing at her lips. “You can have your own chambers back. Why don’t you go talk to Tormund and the other Wildlings?”

 

“I will. I think I will get along with them well,” Robb said, sharing a laugh with Jon. Robb kissed his mother and his sister on the cheek before grabbing a torch and following the muddied path out of the court yard. 

 

\------

 

Hours later Robb and some of the Wildlings men and women began their way back to Winterfell. The fire was huge as Tormund had said, and Robb was warm and filled with ale. He had not talked to so many people in nearly five years and that is what made him grin the entire night. Tormund was a funny man and had told Robb more stories than Robb could have expected. Robb learned a lot about his brother Jon, a lot about the North, and a lot about life from the man and his friends. 

 

When the men and women reached the inside walls of Winterfell they began to spread out across the grounds to go to where they were sleeping. Robb stopped and looked around the yard and up at the tall walls of his home. He had missed Winterfell so much after he was taken from the Twins and had missed his family even more. Talisa and Robb had planned to raise their child here, had planned to have several more and to watch them run around the courtyard and the Godsword playing with each other. But Robb’s selfish mistake had cost him everything - lost his family’s land, lost a lot of his men’s lives and trust, and had lost him his wife and unborn babe. 

 

_ “No one knew what your wife looked like, your Grace, I am so sorry.”  _

 

It was something that Robb repeated in his head nearly every day. All of this happened because he had chosen her and in the end, he had lost her.

 

A large hand grabbed Robb’s shoulder and brought the once-King out of his reverie. Robb turned and saw Tormund drunk and grinning madly. 

 

“You are a good man, Robb,” Tormund said, shaking Robb. Robb laughed. “I respect your brother and I hope that I grow to respect you.”

 

“And I hope the respect is mutual.”

 

Tormund smiled and patted his shoulders again, his eyes wandering the castle. His eyes stopped at once and Robb followed his and saw why. Little Finger was standing beside Sansa as she overlooked the yard. She was staring at the two of them as Little Finger was speaking to her.

 

“You watch that fucker with her,” Tormund told Robb. “We are, but you need to as well.”

 

“We don’t plan to keep him around much longer,” Robb promised. 

 

He left Tormund and made his way to the deck’s stairs. Sansa watched him and seemed relieved that he was coming toward them. Robb saw that Little Finger had stopped talking to her and instead was falsely smiling at the approaching Stark. 

 

“Lord Stark,” he greeted. “I am pleased to see that you all are comfortable here now -”

 

“It is my home, Lord Baelish. Of course I am comfortable. I am a Stark of Winterfell.”

 

“I only meant that you have been gone for so long, I am happy that as soon as I helped your family return you are settled in.”

 

Robb looked at Little Finger for a long moment and then looked to his sister. Robb reached his hand out for her and she took it thankfully.

 

“Sleep well, Lord Baelish. We’re waking early to meet with the Northern Lords.”

 

Robb led her to the yard and then began to lead her to the great keep.

 

“I was going to the kennels,” she told him quietly. Robb stopped walking and looked at her. “You can join me, but I would like to speak with him alone.” 

 

Without saying anything, Robb nodded and began to lead her away from the keep and to the kennels. Tormund had told him that Ramsey was tied to a chair in the kennel hall. Robb wanted to see the monster that destroyed his sister, but Sansa told him to stay outside of the building. Robb watched her slowly approach the kennels and never removed his eyes from her.

 

Sansa stood in front of where Ramsey must be for a long moment, and then Robb heard Ramsey say her name in a soft voice that made bumps cover his skin. 

 

“Hello, Sansa,” he said again in the same voice. “Is this where I will be staying now?”

 

Sansa still did not say anything. Robb wanted to stand beside her to give her strength to speak but he stayed when she had asked him too and strained his ears to hear everything. 

 

“Our time together is about to come to an end…” Robb could hear Ramsey try to breath and he was pleased to notice it seemed to pain the man. “You can’t kill me.  _ I am part of you _ .”

Robb tensed and felt his face contort itself with disgust and anger. He grabbed the handle of his sword. The words seemed to stir something in the both the Stark children because finally Sansa spoke. 

 

“Your words will disappear. Your house will disappear. Your name will disappear. All memory of you will disappear.”

 

There was growling all of a sudden and Robb dropped his hand from his hilt. He realized at once how his sweet sister planned to end the man’s life and it brought a smile to his face.

 

“My hounds will never harm me,” Ramsey told her although he had lost the courage in his voice. 

 

“You haven’t fed them in seven days you said it yourself.” Sansa’s voice was as cold as ice.

 

“They are loyal beasts -”

 

“They were. But now they’re starving.”

 

The hounds began to growl again and Robb could hear them walk through the mud. They were breathing heavily and sniffing - Ramsey was still covered in his own blood, Robb was sure of it. Suddenly, Ramsey’s voice came loud and clear and there was fear evident in every word he spoke.

 

_ “Sit. Down. Down! Stop. Stop!”  _ And then there was the horrible sound of the hound biting him and Ramsey’s strangled screams. 

 

Robb listened to the sound of flesh ripping and listened to the sound of blood spraying out of veins. Robb watched Sansa for any kind of reaction, but from where he stood he could not see anything. He only saw Sansa watch as the hounds ripped the man a part. He could not imagine each thing that Ramsey could have done to his sister to make her want to watch a person get eaten by dogs. 

 

Sansa stepped back like she was going to leave, but continued to watch for another minute, too consumed to look away. Finally, she turned around but Robb couldn’t see her face clearly. She was looking at the ground as she walked toward him and when she neared him, she looked up at him. Her face was dry and there was a smile on her face. Robb tried to return the smile but instead it came as a grimace and he felt tears run down his cheeks. 

 

With the sound of Ramsey’s body being feasted on, Robb grabbed his sister’s hand once more and pulled her close enough to him that he was able to press a kiss to her forehead. Together the two walked to the keep. Winterfell was asleep now beside the two of them, and a soft snow began to fall over them.

 

“I haven’t seen snow in a long time,” he said quietly. 

 

“I remember the first time I saw snow since leaving Winterfell,” Sansa responded. “It was… beautiful.”

 

She stopped outside of Bran’s old room and hugged Robb tightly. 

 

“I have missed you, big brother.”

 

“I have missed you, sister. I have missed you so much.” 

 

Robb kissed her forehead once more when they pulled away from one another, and opened the door for her. There was a fire roaring in the room and he watched her enter and look around. Sansa turned and smiled at Robb and gave him a nod. Robb returned the smile and closed the door to her chambers. 

 

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that Robb finally made his way to his own chambers and he was asleep the moment that he pulled the furs to his shoulders. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
